


Oh, I'll Take Care Of You

by petalprose



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Fluff, M/M, Other, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, could Not stop thinking about that Ill Take Care Of You dialogue, proposal, so here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 07:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalprose/pseuds/petalprose
Summary: After dinner, Crowley had assumed they would be heading back to Aziraphale’s bookshop, but the angel had surprised him yet again. “Crowley,” he’d asked, “You wouldn’t mind if we went over to the park, would you? Only it’s a full moon tonight, and the sky does look gorgeous. Perhaps we could even give stargazing a go.” He said the latter part with so much conviction that Crowley was certain that light pollution wouldn’t hinder them from looking at the stars at all.“Sure, angel,” Crowley had agreed, and decided to go only three miles per hour above the speed limit for the trip there.





	Oh, I'll Take Care Of You

It was a lovely evening in St. James park, and an angel and a demon were currently walking down a well worn path.

You would normally see this particular pair strolling about together in the daytime, but the angel had surprised the demon with an offer of dinner out, and the demon had accepted. As one would expect, dining with an angel was an experience unmatched by anything else.

Though, Crowley reflected, he probably wouldn’t feel like that with any angel but Aziraphale.

After dinner, Crowley had assumed they would be heading back to Aziraphale’s bookshop, but the angel had surprised him yet again. “Crowley,” he’d asked, “You wouldn’t mind if we went over to the park, would you? Only it’s a full moon tonight, and the sky does look gorgeous. Perhaps we could even give stargazing a go.” He said the latter part with so much conviction that Crowley was certain that light pollution wouldn’t hinder them from looking at the stars at all.

“Sure, angel,” Crowley had agreed, and decided to go only three miles per hour above the speed limit for the trip there.

* * *

Currently they had stopped, standing side by side and facing the pond. The night was cool, his angel was next to him, the stars were brighter than they’d ever been, and Crowley had the fleeting impulse to stop time just to keep them here in this moment a little longer.

“Lovely night, isn’t it,” said Aziraphale, unknowingly echoing Crowley’s earlier thought.

Crowley allowed himself a smile. “Really is,” he said, and froze when he felt Aziraphale’s hand close softly around his own.

“Is this all right?” asked Aziraphale. There was an undercurrent of worry in his tone. Crowley made a conscious effort to relax.

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale hummed, and even that had a nervous tone. When he spoke, though, there was no hint of it. “You’ve taken quite good care of me, over the years.”

“Well.” Crowley was still looking out at the pond, but he gave Aziraphale a sidelong glance at this. Gauging his reaction. Aziraphale was looking up at him, a brow raised, and Crowley felt caught. He held his gaze. “It’s more because you needed taking care of, than anything else.” _Good going. You sounded like you meant to kill him,_ he berated himself.

Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind the wording, though. He just huffed out a sort of laugh and squeezed Crowley’s hand. “I hardly think that would have been the case, my dear,” he said drily. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“Need I remind of you of France?”

“That was different.”

“Oh? How so?” Crowley turned to face Aziraphale fully now, grinning. He kept holding his hand. Aziraphale didn’t seem to want to let go, so he figured it was safe to do so. “The promise of crepes compromise your self-preservation, that it?” He was, of course, aware of the exact reason why Aziraphale hadn’t been able to save himself when he realized he needed some saving. They both were. But this was a lighter thing to joke about; no need to bring up Heaven ordering their only field agent not to _frivolously_ spend a miracle on sparing himself from discorporation.

“Oh, whatever. That’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment. “I’ve something to propose,” he said carefully.

_Oh._ “Well. Go on.”

“Your glasses, first,” said Aziraphale. “I don’t feel as though this is the type of proposal wherein keeping those on would be necessary. Or appropriate.”

“Oh?” Despite himself, despite his corporation’s treacherous heart beating in double time, Crowley managed a smirk. He took off his sunglasses and folded it, tucking it into his coat pocket. “There, that’s done. So what is this _proposal_ of yours?”

Aziraphale took a breath he didn’t actually need. “This time onwards, I’ll take care of you,” he said, throwing Crowley for a loop. They’ve both been protecting the other for longer than the Arrangement had even been conceptualized; he was talking about something else entirely. Something that had been out of their reach until the apocalypse-that-did-not-happen brought them together onto their own side.

Crowley recognized those words, and he felt the weight behind them. Aziraphale’s hand was warm and comforting in his own, and Crowley said, “It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me,” said Aziraphale. Then, to Crowley’s great, wide-eyed astonishment—Aziraphale got down on one knee, and he looked right up at Crowley. He met his eyes. “Not if it’s you.”

His other hand had gone to clasp Crowley’s hand. For a moment, Crowley wondered whether or not he was dreaming. “I,” he tried, and when it came out sounding like he’d been choked he started over. “Are you certain?”

“I’m sure as anything, Crowley,” said Aziraphale firmly. “We’ve been each other’s constant companion for the better part of six thousand years. I would love nothing more than to stop… skirting around you.”

“So you want to— make this— make this clear,” said Crowley. “You want us to—Aziraphale, what do you want?”

And Aziraphale made what he wanted clear. He slipped the ring on his pinky finger off and turned Crowley’s palm up, gently placing the ring at the center. “I want a life together with you,” he said. “I want a life where we don’t choose our words so that our relationship is ambiguous. I want dinners at the Ritz where I can hold your hand like this, and I want walks through St. James where we don’t worry about hiding. Crowley,” he said, an angel on bended knee, “I want _you._”

Who was Crowley to refuse an angel? Not just any angel, no less; _his_ angel, his Aziraphale, dazzling, and beautiful, and hopeful, his ring on Crowley’s palm like the apple on Eve’s own.

This wasn’t a temptation. This was something Crowley had scarcely let himself believe was a possibility, this was the rest of his life laid out in front of him, this was _I will take care of you, _this was _whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same, _this was a confession.

This was Aziraphale choosing him, yet again.

“You can have me,” said Crowley, closing his hand around the ring and pulling Aziraphale up to stand. “As friends or otherwise, as partners or adversaries, you will always have me.”

“We’re our own side?” asked Aziraphale, a smile lighting up his features.

“Yeah, we’re on our own side,” said Crowley, feeling lighter than he had ever felt in millennia.

Oh, Aziraphale was the most delightful thing Crowley had ever laid eyes on. Anyone would be lucky to have the angel as their companion. With the smile on his face and his frame silhouetted by moonlight, with the joy in his eyes and his ring in Crowley’s hand, Crowley couldn’t imagine spending eternity without him.

“I don’t suppose I get the honour of slipping your ring on myself?”

Crowley grinned. “Oh, the honour’s all yours, angel,” he said, watching in awe as Aziraphale slowly took the ring from him and put it on his left ring finger. If there was any doubt in Crowley’s mind as to the nature of Aziraphale’s proposal, then it was blown to smithereens by the small, light kiss Aziraphale planted on the back of his hand.

Aziraphale straightened up, and smiled at Crowley yet again, and Crowley pulled him in for an embrace. He counted himself lucky he hadn’t left Eden as soon as his assignment had been finished.

The Serpent of Eden had an angel’s ring on his finger, and the Guardian of the Eastern Gate pressed a soft kiss to his demon’s hair. The world kept turning, and they were unbothered.

* * *

It was a lovely evening in St. James park, and an angel and a demon were currently walking down a well worn path. They were walking hand in hand, laughing with each other, and generally looking as though they were having the time of their lives—and, well, they were.

You would normally see this particular pair strolling about together at a comfortable arm’s length apart, but the angel had surprised the demon with, well. Quite a number of things, dinner being one of them, a ring another, and the demon had accepted each one of these. As one would expect, spending your days alongside an angel was an experience unmatched by anything else.

Though, Crowley reflected, he probably wouldn’t feel like that with any angel but Aziraphale.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i'd just like to note that the bit where it's mentioned about aziraphale being told not to save himself by heaven-- that idea's from [this post](https://cheeseanonioncrisps.tumblr.com/post/187154217405/getting-a-sternly-worded-letter-from-your-higher#notes)! give their blog a look, the gomens meta they've got is rather incredible. also, the pairing is m/m and other bc for one thing theyre presenting male here n for another theyre both ykno Not Human


End file.
